For years, I’ve written in restaurants. People-watching helps me build characters. Fragments of dialogue helps my prose. My usual hangouts are spaces I frequented as a teenager
It wasn't Alzheimers. It wasn't Parkinsons. It was nothing debilitating or death enhancing. No sign of cancer, no clot in the brain, his cardiovascular situation was healthy
What a week it’s been. Full of violence, ambition, politics, deceit, land grabbing
He comes from Virar. He comes from Vashi. He comes from the distant suburbs to South Mumbai in a train — crushed, cramped, creases being added to his already lined forehead
Five yellow-and-black cabs refuse to stop, almost running me over
So our new union government moves into office, ready to pull mother Bharat back from the precipice.
Dear NaBro, Kem cho, sahib? First of all, congrats. No one expected such a landslide victory. Bhajapmanship truly at its most dominant
And so our newspapers, air waves and social media are just full of election news, who’s won from which constituency, how will the entire plan pan out, a whole bunch of characters clamouring for a position or post in the recent landslide victory.
I used to suffer from a severe lack of self-confidence and self-esteem.
I am the darkness, I am in the shadows
Varun Khanna, aged 18, stood in the serpentine queue. His first adult franchise. Mumbai had turned out in decent numbers, he felt
Nandu Bhende passed away last week. I didn’t know him well. But his father, thespian Atmaram was a strong early influence.
I’m writing a book. Moron 1 asks me, “Accha who’s bought the movie rights? Karan Johar?
As a 13-year-old, I was blessed with the most vital aspect of early teenagehood — facial hair. The beginnings of a reasonable-sized moustache was the envy of all my schoolmates.
Mohammed Salim Ansari placed his taqiya on his head and carefully adjusted it in the broken mirror on the pista-coloured wall, overlooking the Dhobi Ghat.
There are two Bombays in my head. The old one that’s filled with memories, of a time expired. And a new Mumbai that, quite frankly, gives me a splitting headache.
And so the elections are on us and I feel like a child with the new Harry Potter book. Didi sides with Anna. Didi has a rally
Right, so for all of you who haven’t seen this year’s Academy awarded films — either the downloading is taking too long or the DVD’s not released yet — allow me to give a brief plotline of each of the significant movies.
My four-year-old godson walks into my home, carrying two iPads
Dear Rakesh Bombay boy, Bandra lad, St Xavier’s College alumnus (we met once, when the college felicitated us both. Also, my mother taught you English Literature, hence the informality).